“Mother shone,” Ian said, smiling softly. “She took so much pride and joy in her power. She considered it such a gift, and it felt like even more of a gift that she shared it with me.”

Mika kissed his cheek, overwhelmed by affection. “You have a big, wonderful heart, Ian Kubo-Hawthorn.”

“Now you’re just making an old man blush, Mika Moon.”

“I’m glad you told Mika,” Rosetta said. “I’m pretty sure Altamira would have blurted it out any day now.”

“I thought it was time to tell her,” Ian said smugly. “After all, she’s now one of us.”

“I am?”

“I’m making the executive decision to end your two-week trial period a few days early.” Ian raised his eyebrows at Jamie, as if he expected the latter to object. Jamie rolled his eyes but said nothing, much to Mika’s surprise. Ian smiled, and added: “We’ll discuss it some more this evening, when Ken and Lucie are with us. There’s plenty to talk about. Until then, you should know that I don’t tell just anyone about my mother.”

“It’s Ian’s way of inducting someone into his circle of sacred trust,” Jamie said drily. “He did it to me, too. Except it came as much more of a shock to me because I didn’t even know witches existed at that point.”

Mika had a lump in her throat. She had never felt so welcomed and included, so much a part of something, and she couldn’t rid herself of a lifelong fear that it was too good to be true. That any minute now, like every person who had flashed in and out of her adolescence, they would decide she was too something or not enough of something else and snatch away their welcome.

But she held back the fear and doubt, and let only her delight show. She put an arm around Rosetta’s shoulders and beamed at the two men. “Do I get a cake to celebrate?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ithink we’re supposed to go that way,” Mika said, pointing left with one hand while holding her phone up with the other. It was almost impossible to get a proper look at the screen with the sharp winter sun’s glare bouncing off it. “The map says it’s—”

“I see it!” Ian said. “Oh, how darling.”

The bookshop was indeed rather darling. The shopfront was bright and colourful, obviously decorated with children in mind, and there were painted illustrations of unicorns, sea monsters, and fairies all over the interior whitewashed walls. It was a weekday afternoon in November, so schools around the city had only just finished for the day and the shop was still relatively quiet.